Snowfall
by nearlyconscious
Summary: Marcus makes the most out of the weather.


Pansy did not move from her assigned kneeling place (before the antique coffee table), and she did not look up at him ; she was to look down, so she only admired, as he walked, his slow yet decided strides. Marcus reached his favourite armchair and sat down.

"Heavy snowfall, today." said Marcus absently before taking a sip of his steaming Earl Grey. He glanced at Pansy and gestured for her to do the same.

Pansy kept silent ; she seized the cup she had poured for herself a minute ago, and drank. She had not been allowed to talk yet. She almost sighed in pleasure at the taste of the tea. Waiting for a cup of tea could prove harder than one would think. Marcus knew it, of course.

They quietly finished their drinks, then Marcus spoke.

"Pansy." The tone was neutral, and when Pansy raised her eyes to look at him, his face was blank as well. The perks of dating a Slytherin : you never quite knew what to expect.

Pansy's kept her face blank as well, but her eyes conveyed what she needed to say. Her gaze was expectant but not impatient.

"My cape, and your leash."

There was a flicker of surprise in the witch's eyes, but she promptly nodded and crawled on the floor towards the hall where she would find the coat. Less than a minute later, she crawled back in, gingerly so for the coat was on her back. She held the leash in her mouth. She reached Marcus' side and stopped there ; he took the coat, stood up and put it on. Pansy, no longer on all fours but simply kneeling, reveled in the contemplation of his silhouette in a cape. She liked to be naked when he was dressed, just like now. He took the leash she was still biting on and attached it to her collar.

They stepped out in the thick layer of snow. Pansy winced at the cold sensation in her knees and hands, but kept going, focusing on her purpose. If her Master wanted her to serve him in the snow, then she would. She trusted him not to put her health in danger. Snow was still falling on them, but Marcus has spelled his cloaked cape to repell, and it was a warm piece of clothing.

Pansy struggled not to shiver, and briefly wondered if it was out of cold or anticipation. She did not like the feeling of cold per se, of course, but she still loved being here. To be crawling naked in the snow, collared and leashed by her fully dressed and cloaked Master, to know he was watching her and would soon claim him as hers and that her sole purpose at that very moment was to please him... All of this put her in a certain headspace that was absolutely addictive.

They didn't walk - or, in Pansy's case, crawl - for long. Marcus rolled the leash around his fist so that Pansy would sit back on her heels kneeling and crane her neck towards him. He leaned in, his eyes bearing into his, and let his mask slip off just for the time necessary to give her a smirk that was, oddly, dangerous and reassuring at the same time. A tingling sensation intensified between Pansy's legs. Marcus kissed her but didn't linger. Pansy almost moaned at the sudden loss of his lips on hers. He unclasped the leash and pocketed it, then stepped back, looking down at her. He tilted his head, his smirk as mysterious and worrying as ever, and broke the silence.

"Face down, arse up."

Pansy quickly obeyed, bowing to the ground, mindful of her posture ; Marcus liked her back very arched, her arse high up in the air, and her face as low as possible. Without so much as a protest, she leaned her forehead on the snowy ground. The cold was biting her skin, but she was too excited to care. She reveled in being so exposed and vulnerable, at Marcus' mercy. She briefly wondered what Marcus intended to do. Would he beat her until her arse was covered with bruises? Her stomach clenched at the thought ; it was painful and draining to be spanked that hard, but she did love the feeling of the bruises in the weeks that followed.

Before she could reflect longer on the possibilities, Marcus took action and Pansy felt his right hand on her arse, grabbing her cheeks. The contrast between Marcus' warm touch and the snow that was still falling steadily was unnerving and somewhat pleasing. Soon both Marcus' hands were playing with her round bottom, caressing, lightly tapping sometimes, spreading her cheeks apart. He didn't play with her folds ; not yet. Pansy did feel, however, a thumb teasing her arsehole, and her body reacted before she could refrain it ; a moan escaped her. Marcus chuckled.

Pansy heard the sound of fabric rustling, a belt unbuckling, behind her. And then, without warning, Marcus was pushing inside her. Pansy could feel her inner walls stretching to accomodate Marcus' girth. He was big, and she was tight, and it hurt every time he entered her, and it hardly faded once he was buried to the hilt in her, but Pansy liked it - loved it. Penetration was her most masochistic moment. The burning sensation Marcus left between her thighs sometimes lasted for days ; he pounded into her viciously. It hadn't always been this rough, but Pansy had a definite taste for it, and Marcus very much enjoyed the fact that he didn't have to hold back and go slow with her.

Pansy didn't hold back her moans and whimpers ; he wouldn't want her to. She had never really tried anyway, for she wasn't sure she could.

"M-may I come, p-please, Master?" she stammered.

"Come." answered Marcus at once, slapping her arse.

Pansy cried out as waves of pleasure washed through her body ; her muscles tensed and spasmed and she shook violently as she hit her climax.

Still trembling from her powerful orgasm, she struggled to keep in position. It wouldn't do to sag on the floor when her master hadn't come himself.

Marcus groaned and Pansy guessed he was close.

"Please!" she whispered before she could help herself, and she instantly felt a twinge of shame. She never got quite used to begging. Asking to come was a different matter.

"You may." replied Marcus in a low voice, in-between deep moans of pleasure.

Pansy quickly turned around ; she took Marcus' length in her small hands, licking the tip of his cock diligently, just the way she knew he liked.

"Enough."

She knew well the meaning of this word ; she clasped her hands behind her back and open her mouth wide. A few snowflakes fell on her tongue. He grabbed her by the hair, gently but very firmly, and did just so ; slowly at first so her throat would have the time to relax, then he started fucking her throat in earnest until she nearly gagged. Pansy loved it : again, the sensations in and of themselves weren't what made the appeal of it, it was the headspace it put her in. She felt so utterly submissive when Marcus used her mouth.

He got out of her mouth, still gripping her hair.

"Look at me as I come in your mouth."

She did look up and she loved what she saw - his face flushed and his eyes dark as ever, he was breathing heavily. She moaned, her abused mouth still wide open, drool dripping down her chin. With a loud groan, Marcus climaxed, and come spluttered on her tongue ; she licked and, as he wasn't holding her head too tight, got closer and sucked not to miss a single drop.

"Thank you, sir." breathed Pansy, beaming.

Marcus returned her smile, his eyes hazy.


End file.
